Title: You've Got A Friend
Character/s: Libby, Charlie, Hurley, Claire
Spoilers: set from Fire + Water to LTDA but omits Charlie being a part of Sawyer's long con
Summary: written for charliepacefic challenge #2: new friend. After Charlie steals Aaron he has all the makings of becoming the camps newest outcast but when Libby discovers about his previous addiction she insists that she can help him to overcome his demons and gain back the trust of the people he loves. Charlie/Claire and Hurley/Libby.
Original Post Date: 13/04/2008
Disclaimer: Lost is by the excellent people from ABC and the title of this fic is from an excellent Carole King song. Enjoy!

"Who's that guy?" Libby asked Hurley abruptly one morning as they shared a selection of fresh fruits between them. Hurley looked non-plussed at her question and so she nodded towards who she was talking about. "You know, the one who's been sitting off down the beach every day in his sweatshirt just kind of…staring at the ocean? Not moving?"

Hurley glanced down the beach and grimaced before turning back to his papaya.

"That's Charlie," he said uncomfortably. "We're…kind of friends. I guess."

"So what's his story?" Libby asked as she polished off a mango, licking the juice from her fingers. "He's just been sort of…sitting there for the past two days."

Hurley shrugged. "I dunno. I guess he's sort of…depressed? Right now?"

Libby frowned. "Why?"

"Well…" Hurley looked almost embarrassed. "I guess its okay to tell you…everyone already knows anyway…"

"Knows what?"

"He's like some kind of…drug addict or something," Hurley explained falteringly. "He told me that he used to snort heroin or something before we crashed here and I guess he found some in the Nigerian plane that Locke found, cause he's been carrying around these little Virgin Mary statues that are full of the stuff. Everyone's saying that he's started using again but I dunno."

"A heroin addict?" Libby frowned and glanced down the beach again. "Why would you think he's started using again?"

"Well…" Hurley paused before answering. "Claire reckons he must've been cause he kept on stealing the baby from her in the middle of the night. He was acting pretty crazy, yelling about getting him baptised so he'd be safe and stuff."

"So that's the guy who lit the fire the other night?" Libby said interestedly. "Poor thing. Did he ever go through rehab for the heroin?"

"I think he just went cold turkey when we first crashed here," Hurley explained grimly. "He ran out pretty quick – like just over a week I think? We all just thought that he was sick with flu or something. Jack tried to keep it a secret so the dude wouldn't be like, shunned or whatever."

"So he never got any proper rehabilitation?" Libby said, aghast. "He just…stopped taking the drugs?"

"I…guess?"

"And nobody bothered to follow him up?" Libby demanded. "Did anybody try to talk to him about it? Why he'd taken it in the first place? Did he have anyone to talk to about the cravings or the ongoing symptoms from his withdrawal?"

Hurley shifted guiltily. "Well…it's not like any of are really…trained to, you know, deal with that kind of stuff..." When Libby continued to stare at him though, he conceded with, "Jack sort of looked after him for a while but then I guess he just got…busy."

"Got busy?" Libby repeated, something close to anger in her voice. "Jack should have known better than to leave an ex-heroin addict to his own devices! Especially if there was an entire plane load of it out in the jungle!"

Hurley merely nodded meekly, and then jumped in surprise when Libby pushed herself abruptly to her feet.

"Whoa, where are you going?" he asked, flummoxed.

"I'm going to go talk to your friend," Libby told him briskly. "It's not fair that he should be treated like this for something that he doesn't know how to control."

And with that she set off down the beach, fists clenched and swinging by her sides.

Charlie was sitting out in the blaring sun with his the hood of his sweatshirt drawn over his face. He was staring down at the sand in front of him, his hands resting on his folded legs, completely lost in his thoughts. Libby felt a wave of concern wash over her as she strode up to him, taking in the pallid complexion and the negative body language.

"Hi Charlie," she called out as she got closer and he looked up and blinked in confusion before returning her greeting, if a little warily.

"Hi. Libby right?"

"That's me," she said cheerfully and squatted down in front of him. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure I guess," he said, his voice flat and emotionless. "What about?"

"About your drug addiction," she said simply.

Better to not beat around the bush she thought – but Charlie's eyes flashed dangerously at her words and he made as if to push himself to his feet, seething.

"If you think that I'm just going to sit here while you people…"

"Wait," Libby touched his elbow and Charlie paused. "I'm a clinical psychiatrist. I want to help you."

"Help me?" Charlie repeated blankly. It was as though he had never even heard the word before Libby thought sadly. "Why would you want to help me?"

"Why wouldn't I?" she returned. "It's what I do for a living – excuse me, what I did for a living. And nobody else seems much inclined to give you the time of day at the moment do they?"

Charlie managed a bitter smile. "You noticed that too huh?"

"I did," Libby said softly. Her hand was still on his elbow so she took it and rested it gently on his knee instead, in a gesture of comfort. "And I don't think it's fair that you should have to bear this burden alone."

Charlie stared at her for a moment, considering her words and then he dropped his eyes and his brow creased.

"You really think you can help me?" he whispered, his voice crackling with emotion. Libby felt her heart breaking along with him. He was so very lost…

"Yeah Charlie," she said firmly and she squeezed his knee comfortingly. "I really think I can."

Despite an initial reluctance to talk about his previous addiction, with a bit of gentle prodding from Libby, Charlie was soon telling her all about his band days and beyond. How his older brother had started on the drugs first and then got him hooked on them too, how he had spent almost all of his money on drugs after Liam abandoned him in England for a new life in Australia. He told her about all the people he'd conned and stolen from, all the trashy women and groupies that he'd bedded. He told her why he had been in Australia and how he had coped with the withdrawals since they'd crashed.

"I burned the last lot I had," Charlie admitted, gazing out vacantly at the waves as he spoke. Libby was watching him speak, not saying anything for now, just listening. "Locke took it off me and he told me that he'd let me ask for my drugs three times and on the last time he'd give them to me – it was like a test of my willpower or something. That day I asked him three times for it but when he finally gave it to me I just threw the bag in the fire. He really seemed proud of me." Here he paused and turned his face to Libby, indicating a cut on his cheek that had been recently stitched up. "He did that to me the other night."

"Why?" Libby asked, honestly curious. She had been over at the bucket line still trying to help put out the fire when everything else had been happening – everything she'd heard about the baby napping she'd heard from Hurley.

Charlie dropped his gaze guiltily. "Because I stole the baby from Claire. I thought I had to baptise Aaron – that I was saving him but..." he shrugged. "I must've been wrong because everything just turned out bloody awful. Claire's not talking to me – and neither is hardly anyone else. They all think that I'm dangerous."

"I don't think that you're dangerous," Libby said gently and Charlie looked up at her blankly. "I think that you went about things the wrong way because you were confused and scared. That's all. I find it hard to believe that you would deliberately try to hurt somebody."

Charlie grimaced and for a moment he looked like he was about to cry, but then he cleared his throat and composed himself again. "You know I didn't use any of it? I mean, I had it – statues and statues full of it – but I didn't us any of it."

"I believe you Charlie," Libby said. "But it's gonna take a while for everyone to settle down about this. Trust is a hard thing to win back – and people are naturally very suspicious of drug addicts."

Charlie snorted mirthlessly. "Yeah. Tell me about it."

"Look," Libby said. "I know it's not much but…if you need someone to talk to about any of this sort of stuff would you feel comfortable with coming and seeing me?"

Charlie was nodding instantly. "Absolutely. I actually feel a bit better now that I've talked to you. So yeah, some more free therapy sounds awesome."

Libby smiled. "Well actually I was going to ask you for some guitar lessons in exchange."

"Really?" Charlie's eyes lit up. Libby watched him in amazement as he began to think out loud about the best way to teach her. For someone who had been so depressed an hour ago he was looking remarkably animated now. It always amazed her just how much a friendly face and an unbiased, listening ear could do.

"Well okay then," Libby said, pleased. "How about I meet you here at the same time tomorrow?"

"That sounds great," Charlie nodded. "I'll bring my guitar too."

"Bring a pen and some paper as well if you can find any," Libby instructed and when Charlie peered curiously at her she elaborated slightly. "If we're going to do this therapy thing properly then I need to start making some notes and setting you some homework."

"Homework?" Charlie wrinkled his nose in distaste. "Is it too late for me to back out?"

"Well no…" Libby said slowly. "But weren't you just saying before that you felt better that you'd talked a bit about it?"

"I guess." Charlie nodded again, his eyes far away.

"Well I'll see you tomorrow then," Libby said, pushing herself to her feet. "Take care of yourself okay?"

"I'll try," Charlie managed a lop-sided smile, grimacing a little when his stitches pulled at his skin.

Three days later and Libby was already beginning to master some basic guitar chords and Charlie seemed a lot more at his ease. He was still quiet and withdrawn but he seemed less bitter and sarcastic. He was eating again too and he'd even started talking to some of the other members of camp again. He hadn't been all that warmly received by many of them but he seemed quietly 

determined to prove his worth. He spent a lot of time with Sayid and Hurley, a little with Jack and the rest with Libby. Libby was pleased to see the progress he was making and Hurley had told her that Jack had confessed to him how much better he seemed.

"I think you're really helping him," Hurley said enthusiastically. "Like, the last time the dude got depressed he sat and did nothing for like, over a week. What you've done in three days is just like, amazing."

Libby flushed. "It's nothing really. I like helping people."

"I don't think that Charlie sees it as nothing," Hurley said, grinning happily at her. "And I think you're pretty amazing too, for doing this for him."

Libby laughed and blushed again. "You're very sweet Hurley," she said but then the smile on her face froze in place. Charlie was walking towards a water collector where Claire was already bent down next to the collector with her own bottles. Libby winced emphatically as Charlie moved very deliberately to the opposite end and began to fill his own bottles up with water. Hurley, obviously wondering what she was frowning at, turned to look and gave a low whistle.

"Dude just can't stay away from her."

"Has he always been this infatuated with her?" Libby asked despairingly. "I don't think it's really healthy for him to be going and trying to talk to her so soon…"

"You remember how I said that the last time he got depressed he didn't do anything for like, a week?"

"Yes…"

"That was cause Claire went missing, back when she was still pregnant," Hurley explained. "One of the Others – this guy named Ethan – he took Claire somewhere. She was there for like a week before she escaped and then when she came back Ethan came back to get her again and Charlie kinda…shot him."

"How long have they known each other for?" Libby asked, frowning. "Charlie and Claire?"

"They met the night of the crash I think…" Hurley shrugged. "So…a month and a half?"

Over at the water collector Libby saw Charlie nod towards Claire and offered her a brief but awkward greeting of some kind. Claire ignored him stonily and continued to fill up her water bottles without looking at him. Obviously humbled, Charlie paused for a moment and then picked up his half filled bottles and walked away without another word.

"I think I'm going to have to talk to him about this girl," Libby muttered.

When she met Charlie by the trees later that afternoon he still looked morose but he perked up a little bit when he saw her.

"Hey," he said, faux cheerful. "What's on the agenda for today?"

"Well I wanted to talk to you about your relationships with the people here," Libby said, diving straight into the deep end. "In particular I wanted to ask you about Claire."

Charlie's face clouded over. "I don't really want to…"

"I saw you at the water collector earlier," Libby interrupted and Charlie dropped his eyes. "What was all that about?"

"I guess I just…" Charlie stumbled to a halt and then grimaced. "I figured that I'd go over and just say hi. No harm in that right? But…well I guess she's still angry at me cause she just ignored me. I just left in the end. No use us getting into another fight over nothing you know?"

"I guess so," Libby said. "Charlie, can I ask you what it is exactly that you see in Claire?" Charlie went distinctly misty eyed as he opened his mouth and so Libby hastened to add. "Think hard about your answer before you say anything. Why do you like her?"

"I…well…" Charlie stammered for a minute but then he finally managed to answer her. "She's just…I don't know why but…I just…like her I guess? I dunno."

"What specifically about her do you like?" Libby prompted.

"I-well," Charlie began falteringly. "I like…her…smile?"

Libby smiled encouragingly. "Good. That's perfect. What else Charlie?"

"I like her sense of humour," he said, beginning to loosen up slowly. "I like the way her face lights up when she talks to Aaron – or when I tell her a joke. I like talking to her too – we play these games, just silly stuff really. Making up lists of words beginning with the same letter or listing stuff we miss from home. I also like…her laugh. And the way she says my name. And the way she holds Aaron. I like walking along the beach with her or just sitting and playing my guitar while she folds nappies for him..." he trailed off and Libby nodded.

"That's great Charlie," she enthused. "Very good. Now, I'd like you to tell me what you don't like about Claire?"

Charlie's face fell slightly. "What I don't like about Claire?"

"That's what I asked yes," Charlie hesitated nervously but then Libby leant forward and gazed reassuringly at him. "Anything that you say is in strictest confidence. I promise that I won't tell a soul."

"Not Claire or anyone?" Charlie mumbled.

"Especially not Claire. And nobody else either for that matter."

"What don't I like about Claire?" Charlie sat back against the tree with a sigh and was silent for a long time, thinking. "I don't like the way she treats me like…well like she only wants me around when she needs my help or when she wants someone to talk to and keep her company. I don't like the way she gets all upset with me and then doesn't tell me what I've done wrong or how to fix it – but that's just a female thing isn't it? I don't like the way she dealt with finding out about my 

addiction. Yeah I should have told her about what was in the statue but she never even tried to understand why I would've lied at all. I just…I wanted to keep it safe. I didn't ineed/i any of it…"

"Try to stay focussed on Claire," Libby instructed gently. "Don't worry about the drugs for now."

"Oh. Right. Well…I wish things were like they were at the beginning you know? We were really close – really great friends. But now…well now it's like there's this huge wedge between us."

"How long has it been like that?" Libby asked. "Can you pinpoint the time that the two of you started drifting apart?"

"We…well we first started really arguing after Aaron was born," Charlie said slowly, almost seeming surprised by the words. "She didn't want me taking care of him at all first up but I insisted that she needed some time to herself and that I didn't mind watching him. After I saved him from being baby napped by the French Woman she was really happy – grateful, you know? At first she seemed to like me taking him sometimes but then she started going ballistic at me for changing his nappies without asking her if she wanted to do it or for picking him up without asking her permission first…"

"New mothers are often very protective of their babies," Libby told him. "And I'm not entirely certain that Claire was really planning to become a mother so early on in life. She's still very young..."

"Exactly," Charlie said eagerly. "I said exactly the same thing to John! She's still got loads to learn about…"

"And what experience do you have with children Charlie?" Libby interrupted. "Have you got any kids?"

Charlie paused. "Well…no I don't. But…"

"I'm aware that you've taken on a fatherly role very quickly with baby Aaron," Libby said, finally understanding what it was that had happened between these two young people to turn their relationship so sour in such a short space of time. "But you have to realise Charlie that he isn't your baby and Claire is not your girlfriend. I've seen similar things happen so many times before where a couple can't deal with the pressures and responsibilities that come with parenthood – even married couples who have known each other for years."

"I never said that we were married," Charlie said, honestly befuddled.

"No you misunderstand what I'm trying to say," Libby said calmly. "I'm saying that people in much stronger relationships – people who have known each other for longer than you've known Claire – have found raising a baby together hard. Can you imagine how much harder this situation is for you two? No offence but you're practically strangers and..."

"She doesn't feel like a stranger to me," Charlie blurted and then blushed before continuing in a slightly softer voice. "I feel like…like I've been waiting for someone like her for a long time. Someone who I could take care of."

Libby caught her breath. "Do you think you're in love with her?"

Charlie looked up at her, confusion clouding his eyes. "I honestly don't know. I don't think I've ever been in love but…God I've never wanted to be with someone so badly in my entire life." Libby bit her lip as Charlie gazed helplessly, hopelessly at her. "It's kind of a scary thing really but…if she asked me to jump off a cliff for her then I'd probably jump first and then ask questions later." He shook his head at himself. "I'd do anything that she asked me."

Libby leant towards him.

"Charlie," she said quietly. "I understand why you might want to latch onto someone like Claire. You never really wanted fame and you certainly never wanted the drugs and I agree that from where you are she probably looks like the perfect person for you to take care of – for you to save."

Charlie stared at her, still not quite grasping where she was going with this.

"But you've got to realise that you can't just change who you are overnight. You may feel perfectly fine physically after a month and a half of being clean – but the psychological changes you've gone through from being addicted to them for so long? They're going to stick with you for a long time. And from what I've seen," she sat back to take in the pained expression on his face. "Claire doesn't look like she's the right person to help you to sort through all of that."

Charlie drooped visibly. "But…if she's not the person I can hold onto then…who is?"

"I don't know," Libby shook her head. "But Charlie, I think you need to realise that being with Claire – especially at this point – isn't healthy for either of you. She obviously needs to prove to herself that she can raise this baby of hers and you – you need to prove to yourself that you can let go. Not just of the drugs, but of Claire too."

"What d'you mean?" Charlie asked, his voice wretched.

Libby smiled ruefully at him. "Charlie," she told him gently. "You can't just swap one addiction for another. How will you ever grow to be the person you want to be?"

For a moment Charlie paused, thoughtful and Libby waited with bated breath to see if her words were going to click with him. And then with a rush of relief, she saw him smile in understanding.

"Yeah," he nodded, his smile growing wider. "Yeah I guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right," Libby teased him gently. "I'm a shrink – I'm always right!"

Charlie laughed.

Over the next six days Charlie found himself caught up in a whirlwind, trekking out with Sayid and Ana-Lucia (of all people) to find Henry Gale's balloon. Libby meanwhile had her hands full with Hurley but they still managed to snatch some time to continue their chats between Charlie's work on the church with Eko.

He told her that the trek he'd gone on to find Henry Gale's balloon had been like a breath of fresh air, getting him away from the judgemental stares of everyone else on the beach, and away from Claire's cold indifference. Sayid had always been a good friend to him and Ana was fun for him to stir up if nothing else. It didn't mean that when he came back and saw Claire walking along the beach 

with Aaron that his heart didn't ache a little. But all too soon he was occupying his time helping build Eko's church.

Until the pallet drop that is. Charlie snatched up the silver case thinking it might be something rare that he could use to barter for something better. But when he found out what was inside it – vaccine – he admitted to Libby that his first thought was of Claire.

"I think I should give her the vaccine," Charlie told Libby frankly. "If anyone should have it here, it should be her and the baby right? Besides, it'd be a good peace offering don't you think?"

"Are you sure you're ready to reach out to her again?" Libby said uncertainly. "It's only been what – a week since you took Aaron from her?"

"I know," Charlie lamented. "But I just want to clear the air between us a bit you know? Even if she doesn't want to have a bar of me I think she should know that I'm sorry and…" he paused then and broke into a crooked grin. "I told you about how I left my brother in Sydney on bad terms right?"

"Yes I remember," Libby nodded.

"Well I guess…" Charlie began slowly. "I mean, heaven forbid anything should happen to her – or me for that matter – but I'd hate for the last thing we'd said to each other to have been that huge fight we had y'know?"

Libby smiled. "You're still totally head over heels for her huh?"

"I'm not quite over my heels yet," Charlie corrected. "But my head? Definitely."

Libby was silent for a long moment, considering. Charlie watched her intently and then chuckled.

"You know something," he said astutely. "Don't you?"

"I'm sorry?" Libby said, surprised.

"You know something about Claire," Charlie stipulated and then he looked suddenly hopeful. "Did she say something about me?"

"No she didn't," Libby confessed but before Charlie could start wilting with disappointment she continued on with. "But Aaron was sick the other day..." Charlie's face pinched and darkened and Libby realised that he probably heard the infant crying from his shelter up the beach. "Did you hear him crying?"

"Yeah I heard him," Charlie said grimly. "He was up all night. It took every ounce of willpower I had not to just go belting up the beach and demand to know what was wrong. He's alright now isn't he?"

"He's fine," Libby assured him. "While you were off looking for the balloon with Ana and Sayid I helped Claire to unblock some of her repressed memories from when you two were abducted..." Charlie let out an audible gasp as Libby continued on calmly. "She remembered that they injected her with some sort of a vaccine when she was being held and so she went into the jungle with Kate to go and find it for Aaron."

"And she found it?" Charlie leant forward eagerly. "She found the vaccine? Did she remember what happened to her?"

"I think she's remembered most of what happened to her," Libby amended. "I haven't really spoken to her since then. From what I heard from Kate, they didn't find the vaccine – the station was empty – but Aaron got better anyway."

"But he might get sick again," Charlie said, looking worried but then a sudden excitement lit up his eyes. "What if she needs this vaccine for him? What if it's the same vaccine that I found? I should go and…"

"Charlie," Libby interrupted warningly. "Remember what we've talked about? You can't just jump feet first back into this again. You could end up getting hurt again."

"It'd be worth it for her," he blurted unthinkingly and then, realising what he'd said, he flushed a brilliant shade of magenta. "Wow. Freudian slip much?"

"Hardly," Libby sighed. "Look Charlie, no matter what I say to you, you're going to go back to her eventually – I can tell. Just promise me one thing okay?"

"Absolutely," Charlie said. "Anything."

"Just…don't let yourself fall too hard and fast for her okay?" she smiled ruefully. "I know you care about her a lot but…look if you really want this – really want it – then you'll be able to wait and let it grow slowly. Otherwise it'll just fall apart again. You understand what I mean right?"

Charlie considered her words for a moment and then nodded.

"I'll try my best," he promised. "I can't really…you know, help the way I feel about her. But I'll try."

"Thank you," Libby said, relieved. "You make me worry."

Charlie's brow creased in confusion. "Why on earth would you worry about me?"

"Well I know we haven't exactly known each other for all that long but I do consider you a friend," Libby said stoutly. "And friends worry about each other."

Charlie's face softened at that and he smiled before reaching out and touching her shoulder.

"That's really sweet of you. Thanks."

"Charlie?"

The two of them jumped, startled out of their conversation by the sudden appearance of Mr. Eko, solid and imposing.

"Hey Eko," Libby greeted him.

"Hello Libby," he returned and nodded to her before turning back to Charlie again. "Charlie I would like some help with the church. Are you busy?"

"No I'm good," Charlie pushed himself to his feet, brushing the sand off his jeans. "Libby and I were pretty much finished anyway."

"I'll talk to you tomorrow?" Libby asked, pushing herself to her feet as well.

"Absolutely," Charlie said glibly. "Same place same sort of time?"

"I'll be here," Libby chuckled and began to head back to camp.

"Oh and Libby?" Charlie called out. She turned back to him as he eyed her meaningfully. "Enjoy the rest of your day!"

Libby scrutinised his cheeky grin and pursed her lips suspiciously.

"Charlie, what aren't you telling me?"

Charlie grinned. "Go ask Hurley. He'll know what I'm talking about."

The next day Charlie couldn't find Libby anywhere. After Eko had rushed off dramatically in the middle of the night he had been mooching about around the church, unsure as to whether he should continue work on it without him. And without Libby there to be his voice of reason he was becoming dangerously close to going and talking to Claire again.

In order to give himself something to do, he sought out Hurley and asked if he'd seen Libby. To his surprise however, Hurley was also asking around for her.

"We were gonna go on the picnic yesterday," Hurley explained worriedly. "But I forgot the blankets so she went to go and get some while I got the wine from Rose and Bernard and then she kind of…never came back. I've been asking everyone, but no one's seen her."

"Well if she was headed to the hatch for some blankets then maybe she's there?" Charlie suggested. "Although I don't know why she hasn't come back yet…"

"Maybe she's just trying to blow me off," Hurley said glumly. "She probably just used the blankets as an excuse to get out of going out with me."

Charlie raised an eyebrow. "Mate, are we talking about the same bird here? Cause I can't really see Libby doing that to anybody – least of all you. I mean you two are getting pretty tight aren't you?"

"I guess," Hurley said evasively but he was beginning to smile a little. "You know she kissed me the other day?"

Charlie guffawed. "Serious? That's brilliant Hurley!"

Hurley shrugged, his mouth still twitching with the want to smile. "Yeah it was pretty cool."

"Well there you have it," Charlie said comfortably. "No way would she just bail on you – I'm sure there's a reason for it."

"Maybe they know where she is," Hurley said suddenly, looking over Charlie's shoulder. Charlie turned and saw Kate and Sawyer going into his tent.

"Maybe," he said. "Why don't you go ask them?"

Hurley nodded vaguely and then lumbered off dutifully. Charlie returned to his makeshift tent and sat for a while playing his guitar. When he went to pull his song notebook out of his things however, his hand clasped instead around the vaccine case. He thumbed the lock on the front carefully, suddenly thoughtful. He'd tried it out last night before he went to sleep, thinking that if he was ever going to give it to Claire then he'd better make sure it wasn't dangerous at all and so far nothing had happened. He didn't feel any different and it didn't seem to have done him any harm. Maybe he could go and give it to her this morning?

Practically humming with nervous energy, Charlie packed the case into his backpack and then set off for Claire's tent, trying to decide on how best to break the ice and eventually settling on drawing inspiration from Hurley. He could say that he'd just come over to ask her if she'd seen Eko – it was a legitimate enough question, nice and harmless.

She was folding nappies when he came up behind her and for a moment his heart stopped and his feet nearly did too. Taking a deep breath, Charlie steeled himself for the worst and then called out to her.

It was crazy how much could change in twenty four hours Charlie thought with amazement as he sat beside Claire at the fire. After a couple of days of chopping up wood to build the church and his daily catch ups with Libby, the events of the past few hours had swept his life from serenity into a tempest of utter craziness.

Firstly there had been the revelation of Libby's death from none other than Michael who had apparently finally found his way back from the Others. As it transpired, Eko was at the hatch now pushing the button and so Charlie had gone to seek him out only to find that his friend had decided to abandon his work on the church and to move up there instead. Offended, Charlie left in a huff and had decided to keep himself busy by building the church himself.

Until Vincent came trotting up with a Virgin Mary statuette in his mouth that is.

Incredulous, Charlie had followed the mutt back to Sawyer's tent and found the remainder of the statues in there, stacked neatly underneath the trap door which hid the rest of Sawyer's stash. Taking the cool plaster in his hands, Charlie had thought about what Libby had told him just days before about learning to let go of his drugs.

Why did he need the statues anyway? His body didn't really need the drug anymore – and he certainly wasn't about to start fixing again. One island detox program had been bad enough and by now he had long since given up any hope of getting rescued. Eventually he would run out of statues, of drugs, and then he'd be back to step one again – a long, painful withdrawal.

He didn't think he could cope with that again.

And so he had gathered up all the statues in his backpack (almost empty now that he'd taken the vaccine case out of it) and took them down to the beach. For every statue that he threw in the water 

he allocated a dedication to all the people that he wished could see him right now – finally letting go of his past.

For Tommy.

You told me once that I was always going to be an addict. I wish you could see me now.

For Mum.

You never even knew what I was but I know you would have been disappointed. I wish you could see me now.

For Liam.

Your final memories of me are of me as a junkie – no good and worthless. I wish you could see me now.

For John.

I trusted you and you betrayed me – once a junkie does not mean always a liar. I wish you could see me now.

For Claire.

You could have been my redemption. I wish you could see me now.

For Libby.

You were there for me and you believed in me – I never could have asked for anything more from you. I wish you could see me now.

The final statue weighed heavily in his hand as he pondered who the last statue should be for.

And then it dawned on him – clear and plain and so simple. He drew his arm back and threw hard, watching as the blue and white plaster vessel spun through the air before landing in the water with a splash.

For Charlie.

You did it.

The funeral later that afternoon had passed in a blur of roaring silence as he stared down at the grave where Libby's body lay. He was saddened by her death in a way that he hadn't allowed himself to feel here towards anyone else and judging by the way Claire was hovering at his side it was clear that she felt the same.

He thought for a moment when she took his hand that she was merely reaching out to him because she could sense that his emotions were on par with hers. He remembered that Libby had helped Claire too – with her memories of the abduction.

Who would've ever thought that Libby would unintentionally create a bond between the two of them again?

Glad of the level of civility between them but not really expecting anything else from Claire for the time being (it was still barely over a week since he had stolen Aaron from her after all), Charlie spent most of the next day sitting on the beach and strumming his guitar, not really concentrating on what he was playing but rather the sense of accomplishment seated deep in his belly and the feel of the strings beneath his fingertips.

The next thing he remembered was a frantic run to the hatch with Eko, Locke and that Desmond bloke locking themselves inside, the dynamite and then the explosion and now…well now he was at the beach camp again with Claire being asked twenty questions.

"Nothing happened," he insisted time and again as she drilled him about what had happened at the hatch and eventually he managed to slip in a jibe and she just gave up on him as a bad joke and they fell into a companionable silence.

When she reached out to touch him, Charlie was honestly surprised. He was very much enjoying being back on speaking terms with her and he'd been glad for the contact the day before at Libby's funeral – a moment of quietly shared grief for someone who had touched both of them in a brief but memorable way.

To say that he was surprised when she leant forward and kissed him would be somewhat of an overstatement. He just about fell over backwards in his shock but when he didn't quite kiss her back Claire pulled back, uncertain.

"I uh…" he began to stammer, a dull flush creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks. "I'm sorry I wasn't uh…"

"Expecting that?" Claire drew her bottom lip between her teeth nervously.

"I wasn't expecting anything like that," Charlie said, still slightly shell shocked. "Claire…I…God don't you think that this is jumping the gun a little bit?"

Claire stared at him, her mouth hanging open. "What?"

"Well you've been ignoring me for the past week and now you just come up and kiss me?" he pushed a hand through his hair. "Sorry if I'm confused but I'm not entirely sure what your motivation is."

"Well I thought I just made that pretty clear," Claire said, clearly unimpressed. "You know, when I kissed you."

"I didn't want you to kiss me," Charlie said bleakly but at Claire's expression he hastened to add. "No, that's not what I meant. I want you to kiss me but I don't think that now is really the best time to…"

Claire frowned. "I thought this was what you wanted? Isn't this what you wanted?"

"Well yeah, I do want this," Charlie said and Claire stared at him like he'd grown an extra head. To be honest, even Charlie couldn't believe what he was actually hearing come out of his mouth. "I've wanted this since I first met you but just…Claire…"

She stared at him, affronted, offended, upset and Charlie just shrugged helplessly at her.

"This isn't healthy for me – and it's not good for you either. You only seem to want me around when the mood strikes you or when you need me to help you. And me?" he sighed heavily. "I've invested far too much of myself in you as it is. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd love to be your friend Claire, I really would. I care about you. And the baby. I care about you both a lot..."

"But you don't want to be my girlfriend," Claire said flatly.

"I'll be your friend," he said bracingly. "But I can't just let myself fall in love with you Claire which is what I nearly did before. I won't let myself do that again because I know that you don't care as much for me as I do for you and..."

"I do care about you!" Claire interrupted him, appalled. "I just…Charlie I don't understand why you won't…"

"Of course you don't understand," he said softly, reaching up to touch her cheek. "How could you? I've never really told you anything about me. About my past."

Claire leant her cheek against his palm, sighing. "Charlie…"

"One day I'll be able to tell you everything," he promised. "I'll be able to look you in the eye and tell you the absolute truth without any inhibitions. And I hope that when that day comes you'll be able to listen from beginning to end without wanting to run away from me. That you won't cringe when I tell you about the awful things that I've done."

"So tell me," she whispered, her eyes shining with tears. "Dammit Charlie! I just put myself on the line here! The least you can do is…"

"Shh," he murmured. "Please Claire – I know that you're willing to let me back in again and I think that's fantastic. But I also know that you're not ready to hear some of the things that I really need to talk through with you."

"Charlie…"

"No, we need to take this slowly," he told her. "Or else we'll wind up exactly where we were before and I don't want that. Please?"

And finally, she nodded, biting her lip in that endearing way she had.

"Okay."

"Okay?" he repeated, hardly daring to believe.

"Okay," she repeated, reaching out to squeeze his hand before she smiled the ghost of a smile. "Hey maybe one day I'll be able to tell you all my secrets too?"

"You've got secrets?" Charlie teased but secretly he was rather intrigued at the idea.

"We've all got secrets Charlie," Claire told him, teased him back gently. "Some are just buried a little deeper is all."

Charlie grinned and then on a whim, he leant forward and kissed her softly on the cheek. Claire looked quite abashed, but pleased.

"Thank you," he said. "For understanding why I can't just…you know."

"No I think you're right," she said. "We need to take a step back every so often so that we don't end up getting too much in each others faces."

"Exactly what my psychiatrist said," Charlie joked but when Claire's brow crinkled in confusion he elaborated. "Libby. I've chatting to her for a little while now. She helped me figure out a lot of stuff about myself – and about us."

"She helped me too," Claire said softly. "She helped me to remember about Ethan, about what he did to me when I was taken…"

Charlie watched Claire for a moment, sitting there beside him on tenterhooks, almost holding her breathe…

"Did you want to talk about it?"

Claire's eyes fastened on his, a determined set to her jaw and she nodded bravely.

"Yeah," she said. "Yeah I think I do."

The night breeze was getting quite chilly when Charlie finally headed back to his tent but he still took a moment to take a short detour. The sand crunched underfoot as he made his way to their little graveyard – or maybe not so little now that five souls had been laid to rest there – and he paused at the foot of the freshly turned earth that he knew covered Libby's corpse.

"Hey Libby," he said, squatting down to the ground and idly tracing his fingers thoughtfully through the dirt. After a moment however he broke into a sheepish grin. "I uh…I spoke to Claire," he admitted. "I know it was probably too soon but…I remember what you said and we had a chat tonight when I got back from the hatch and…I think we're going to be okay.

"I'm not going to let myself fall for her, I'm going to keep my distance as much as I can and…well we'll see what happens. Thank you for helping me out with all of that, for making me see what I was too far gone to realise." He chuckled suddenly. "They say that love is blind. I reckon it's more suicidal to be honest but then what do I really know about it eh?

"So I just wanted to stop past and say thank you for everything you did for me. We weren't friends for very long before all of this bollocks happened but you've really made a difference in the way I see things. And you were a big help to Claire too – she told me all about what happened when she was taken and she seems a lot happier now that she's talked about it to someone properly. Nobody else would have really understood the way that I do – they weren't with her when she was taken, when she came back again…

"So yeah. I just wanted to say thank you," he finished up. "Thanks for being there and for…well everything."

Pushing himself to his feet he smiled sadly down at her grave for a moment and then turned to walk away before doing a double take.

"Oh and one more thing," he said. "I started to write this song the other day about this guy who's kind of going through a rough patch and he's got this friend who's helping him get himself back on track again. It was kind of meant to be a present for you to say thanks for everything but…well that plan has kind of fallen through now so…"

Reaching into his pocket, Charlie drew forth a carefully folded piece of paper and then knelt down to scraped back a handful of dirt, just enough to cover it over. Once that was done he brushed the dirt off his hands, stood up and crossed himself before offering her one last smile.

"I won't ever forget what you did for me. Rest in peace Libby."